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The Noble 



AND 



His Daughter 



BY 

KATE BEIRNE O'ROURKE 



LOS ANGELES, CAL. 
1911 



i.^^ 






COPYRIGHT, NOVEMBER 1911 

BY 
KATE BEIRNE O'ROURKE 



©CI,A303204 



To the noble of nations, 

To the hearts that are true. 
To the spirits of freedom 

Be they many or few. 
To all virtue and honor. 

To all love that is true. 
This work is, dear friends. 

Dedicated to you. 

KATE BEIRNE O'ROURKE, 



INTRODUCTION. 

"T^ presenting this work, which is a story taken 
"'^ from real life, I have endeavoured to show 
where, and how true worth can win, wherever the 
seeds of valour remain in a human heart, as well 
as the worthless vanity of titled aristocracy. 

The vain Marquis at an advanced age fell in love 
with, and married Nelvy, the great-granddaughter 
of an exiled Irish patriot. She dies, leaving Elda 
(her only living child) who, in many ways shows 
the same patriotic spirit of her ancestor (Captain 
John Dwyer), and whose love for her father was 
scarce ever equalled, yet he could never bring her 
to bow her proud head and her pure heart to vain 
titles. She met and fell in love with a young 
American Naval officer, and not only showed her 
regard for the man she loved, but decidedly 
expressed her admiration for the noble principles 
represented in that banner of freedom, "the stars 
and stripes of the glorious American flag," though 
her life was a sacrifice to her father's wishes, and 
she was willing to die rather than offend him, yet 
the noble principles that won her love and 



admiration could never be shaken. In the face of 
death is proven beyond doubt by the symbolical 
knot over their earthly remains, as well as the 
favor shown by Mananan in restoring to the wishes 
of Fair Elda the body of her lover, that whatever 
difficulties may interfere in this life, human power 
can never separate the love and spirits of two 
noble characters. 

Though all of the names and some of the charac- 
ters are fictitious, yet the subject is, fully, founded 
on facts. 

As, much of the story is expressed in song, I 
have arranged the volume in two parts. 

Part one contains the main subject with reference 
to lyrics in part two. The lyrics are numbered as 
they occur. 

The index refers to lyrics and recitations which 
follow in part two. 

The Author. 



Index to Lyrics in Part Two 

Number Page 

1 You'll Centre My Garden of Love 107, 108 

2 Now Where's the Voice to Cheer Me? 109 

3 A Gallant's Love for Me 110 

4 I Know You'll Ne'er Deceive Me 111,112 

5 The RedRose Will Fade 113 

6 Think on the Fair and Smile on the True 114 

7 I'll Marry No Other but You 115, 116 

8 I Shall Marry None but You 117 

9 I Love a Queen Though She Wears Not a Crown 118 

10 Keep Away Love from Me 119 

11 If I Were Only an Humble Maid 120 

12 To the Land of the Free I Would Take Thee 121 

13 Oh! For a Home Where all Hearts can be Free 

122, 123, 124 

14 We'll all Make Merry Till the Morning 125 

15 Beautiful England, Fair Vanity's Shrine Is in Thee 

126, 127 

16 Oh! What a Kind and a Lovable Man Hubby Has 

Been to Me 128, 129 

17 A Little of Love Does Me 130,131 

18 The Lovable Face of a Child 132,133 

19 I'll Bid Farewell to Sidney in the Morning 134, 135 



20 Let Every Man Feel Gay and Young and Every 

Maid Look Cheery 136 

21 I Bid You the Top of the Morning 137 

22 When Gained Are the Hopes That We Cherish 138, 139 

23 ril Still, My Dear Elda, Cling Fondly to Thee 140 

24 My Soul Will Seek and Find Thee 141-142 

25 Blow Him Sweet Breezes, Oh! Blow Him Fair 

Weather 143 

26 Thinking, Alas, He Was Dreaming of Me 144 

27 Grieve Not, Oh! Grieve Not, There's No Need 

of Sorrow 145 

28 I Know That the Bright Stars Are Shining, but 

Gloomy the Clouds Look to Me 146 

29 In Love They Lived and Died 147,148 

30 FairNelvy 149, 150 

31 Sing Me One Strain from the Careless and Free 151 

32 Calling Me to Go 152, 153 

33 When I Am Dead 155, 156 

34 Let Me Dream My Barque Has Landed on That 

Lovely Golden Shore 157, 158 

35 The Noble and His Daughter 159, 160 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER. 



"f=r TELEGRAM for Marquis Weland!" said a 
^-"^ messenger boy, as the door opened of the 
hotel owned by Nelvy's father. 

"He is taking a walk in the garden" said Nelvy, 
who had just entered the hall, "I will take it to him." 

The Marquis who was spellbound by the rare 
artistic taste exhibited in the arrangement of the 
flowerbeds, planted by the dainty hands of Nelv>^ 
was soon roused by the charming sweetness of her 
own voice as it chimed, "a telegram." He glanced 
over the missive, then turned a long searching look 
into the eyes of Nelvy, as if he wished to read the 
secrets of her soul. 

"I must leave this perfect Paradise in a few days, 
those enchanted moments and this beautiful garden, 



10 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 

which can never be equaled, and return to Sidney." 

"I am sorry to see you leave so suddenly, I wish 
you could stay longer," said Nelvy. 

"The longer I stay the harder it is to leave," 
replied the Marquis. "There is a rose, a beautiful 
rose in this garden, that my heart yearns for, but 
my courage fails when I try to ask." 

"Why that is simple," said Nelvy, cheerfully, "the 
garden is at my disposal, you may pack the whole 
plot off if that will make you happy; I can soon 
have another; I get flowers from all over the world, 
from Jerusalem to Ireland, and from the Sensitive 
Plant to the saucy little Shamrock." 

"But," continued the Marquis, "there is not a 
flower in all the world could fill the place of the 
one I love; none to vie in beauty, in sweetness, in 
loveliness and in innocence." 

Then, taking the hand of the beautiful Nelvy in 
his own, he slipped on her finger something that 
glittered "neath the bright Australian skies," while 
he named the rose in the following lyric, entitled 
"You'll Center my Garden of Love." {See 
Lyric N'o. 1.) 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 11 



The lovely home was lonely quite 
In Aukland town, New Zealand, 

VVhen Nelvy left it, young and bright, 
The bride of Marquis Weland. 

To Sidney, fair, he took his bride, 
Their honeymoon not over, 

A jewel bright, a rose and pride. 
To husband and to lover. 

No fairer scene can fancy paint. 
At home or o'er the water, 

Than that dear wife so fair so faint, 
V/hen blessed with baby daughter. 

But brightest visions swiftest fade, 
As sunshine clouds may cover, 

Alas, as soon the bloom's decayed 
Of lovely wife and mother. 



12 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 



The proverbial line "brightest visions swiftest 
fade" was in this instance, alas, but too true, as the 
sunshine of the birth of Fair Elda was soon followed 
by the decease of her mother. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 13 



Famed Weland Castle's darkened gloom 

No poet's pen can write it, 
That vacant space, fair Neh/y's room, 

That cheer all hearts delighted. 



14 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER. 

The Marchioness bade a loving farevvell to her 
husband, kissed her baby, and then closed her eyes. 
To all appearance the supreme moment had come. 
The lovely lady of Weland Castle, whose life, 
though short, was full of words and deeds of kind- 
ness, whose smile was like the sunshire that dances 
on the sea, and her beauty, like the first rosebud 
in June, now lay motionless and white as the lily 
plucked in its bloom. 

"Boo-oo-oo," cried the baby in the nurse's arms, 
as if frightened by the strange stillness. The 
grief-stricken father, impatiently ordered the baby 
taken av/ay; the stiilnes was broken, the Marchioness 
was not yet dead; she opened her eyes, she tried to 
open her lips, but she only gasped in broken 
murmers, "oh, George, our baby," turned her eyes 
from one to another as if struggling to speak the 
last v/ord, "the Vv^ord that is ever unspoken." Once 
more was intense stillness, and with her hand 
resting in that of her devoted husband's she passed 
on to the shore of the "Great Forever," where 
hearts don't break and souls don't sever. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 



But yet his angel wife had left, 
Ere Heaven's Hand had sought her, 

To cheer the home of her bereft 
A lovely infant daughter. 

The baby grew each day more fair, 
Cherub, the Marquis thought her. 

With all the love and tender care 
Of ^noble's only daughter. 



16 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 



With all his love for his only living child yet the 
memory of his fair bride was ever dear to the 
Marquis. His lamentation is expressed in the Lyric 
entitled, "Now Where's the Voice to Cheer Me." 
(See Lyric No. 2.) 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 17 



At perfect age the maid appeared, 
To travel, form, besought her. 

To London, though her father feared 
To travel o'er the v/ater. 

A lady, with a title high. 

Of rank and elevation, 
Goes with the maid, you know just why, 

To famous London station. 



18 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 



Marquis Weland's failing health would not permit 
a sea voyage, yet, anxious to have his daughter 
introduced into English society, places her in 
charge of a handsome young widow, "the charming 
Lady Emberton," who, by the way, had been forced 
by her parents to marry Lord Emberton, (a palsied 
old batchallor whose every look threatened a 
thunderstorm), but he kindly died, leaving his 
young widow the least a lord could, viz., the title of 
"lady" and the chance of another. The Weland 
yacht was placed at the disposal of the ladies, who 
visited many ports and one of particular interest. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 19 



SoutK Afric's port, the Yankee fleet 
Was anchored on its water, 

There Captain Kerwin first did meet 
With Marquis Weland's daughter. 

His cheerful smile, his noble mien, 
The joy his presence brought her 

Like lightning, flashed a love, between 
Him, and the Noble's daughter. 



20 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 



Lady Weland and Lady Emberton, aione in the 
pretty drawing-room of the Weland yacht, ex- 
changed views on many subjects. 

Lady V/eland—"l wonder if we ever will meet 
those officers again? There was, well, there was 
something about the visit I cannot explain." Then 
she sings, "A Gallant's Love for Me." (See 
Lyric No. 3.) 

Lady Emberton — (who could always see the bright 
side of everything) "Why yes, my dear, life is long, 
and the world is a small place. They may be in 
London before us." 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 21 



They met, but oh! how soon to part, 
Her yacht to London brought her, 

Where soon she wins each hostess' heart, 
Lords, earls, dukes, there sought her. 



22 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 



Lord Lindy—{di grave, haughty, handsome young 
Englishman, who could hold the hearts of at least 
half a score of London heiresses, not to mention 
matchmaking mothers), requested the fair Colonial 
lady to sing. Lady Weland granted the favor, {See 
Lyric No. 4, entitled '1 Know You'll Ne'er De- 
CIEVE Me"), her eyes mischievously resting on 
the gay lord, who began to think he held a new 
heart in the game of love, but he was sadly 
mistaken, for love-making in lordly fashion was 
regarded as a laughing matter by the happy-hearted 
Colonial heiress. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 23 



She sang so sweet, her angel voice 
All hearts and souls a thrilling, 

And ladies were, as well as lords, 
To gain her favor willing. 



24 THE NOBLE. AND HIS DAUGHTER 



One of the ladies, enraptured over the sweetness 
of her voice, and the beauty of her expression, 
requested another song. Ever ready to contribute 
towards the happiness of humanity, she sang, but 
this time with so much pathos that all present sat 
spell-bound. A strange feeling came over the ladies 
at the line "Pluck not the rose, dear; oh! spare it 
for pity,'' and the lords wondered where the lovely 
laurel grew. (See Lyric No. 5, entitled, "The Red 
Rose Will Fade,'') 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 25 



At many brilliant balls she danced, 
And ardent swains there sought her, 

But none of them the heart entranced 
Of Marquis Weland's daughter. 



26 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 

Arrangement for a ball at Berford Castle was in 
progress at the time the American fleet reached 
London, which brought about the following conver- 
sation between the guests: 

Lady Welmtd (Fair Elda) — '1 wish we could have 
the young officers we met at the Cape, at the ball. 
The perfect ease of manner, the absence of cramped 
up, cold formality, the air of freedom combined 
v/ith true courtesy, altogether, have held my heart 
a captive." 

Lady Emberton — "Leave that to me, Elda, truth 
is, it seems years since we met and parted at the 
Cape, and yet it is only three months. In the 
meantime, Elda dear, call me Dena. My first name 
is Oldena, Dena for short. When I married, or 
was married rather (for I v/as the least of all inter- 
ested in the affair) to Lord Emberton, he was 
sixty-eight; I Vv^as eighteen. My first burden was 
my title. For five years I scarce ever heard my 
name in the dear familiar tones of my girlhood 
days; my next was this black bonnet, although I 
must confess I wear it with a good grace, but here 
comes his lordship." Both ladies part and Lady 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 27 

Emberton meets Lord Berford with her usual 
pleasant smile. 

Lady Emberton — "V/hy, here you are, I've been 
thinking of you a mxoment ago." 

Lord Berford— ''Nothing could please me better, 
may I dare say a guinea for your thought, the 
usual phrase is a penny for your thought, but you 
are so much above the usual?" 

Lady Emberton — "I feel highly complimented by 
your esteem, my dear Lord Berford, and as I rather 
doubt if my thought has a cash value, you shall 
have it free. The American fleet is paying a visit 
to our port just nov/, and as you are arranging 
for a ball at the Castle, Lady Weland and I wish 
an invitation extended to the officers w^e met at 
the Cape." 

Lord Berford— ''Welly my dear lady, I was not 
mistaken when I placed your thought beyond the 
average, but pray what can take it towards Yankee 
favor. Y/hile nothing can give me more pleasure 
than compliance with your slightest wish, yet how 
can you place yourself on a level v/ith those boys 



28 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 

who have no pedigree, and as little regard for a 
king as a cowboy?'' 

Lady Emberton (playfully)— ''Really, my good 
lord, the motto they carry, is dazzling in its splendor 
to the limited range of our minds, (Virtue, Liberty, 
Independence), however, I will manage to make 
myself interesting, even in my ovvai dull way." 

Lord Berford—''! declare, my good lady, your 
sense of wit and good-nature is almost provoking; 
pray what interest at heart can Vv^e have for 
those men, or what courtesy do you think v/e owe 
them, the progeny of men, whom, under other 
conditions, our ancestors might have styled rebels, 
traitors, menials?'' 

Lady Emberto?i — ''My dear sir, your last statement 
referring to ancestral folly and class distinction is 
painfully true, we owe those people a great deal, a 
debt, I fear, v/e will never be able to pay. They 
have shov/n us what a gallant can do, and a tyrant 
can't dare; they have seen v/hat we can do, yet 
they've shov/n us what we cannot do. They respect 
themselves without reference to mossy tombstones 
or threadbare titles, but true living men; they not 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 29 

only demand, but command the respect of all fair 
and noble-minded the world over. Let us cultivate 
cheerfulness; those people can show us hov/; it is a 
greater honor to be able to take defeat gracefully 
than to conquer vauntingly, unless it be to defend 
your hom.e. Then, I say, glory to the men who win 
their country's independence." 

Lady Emberton looks at her watch, then exclaims, 
"Why, bless me! we have been talking nonsense 
here almost an hour, missing, perchance, somie of 
the meiry glances the Great Omnipotent casts on 
thoughtless mortals. Come, let's decide about 
the ball." 

Lord Berford—''R.eally, my dear Lady Emberton, 
I am too lacking in wit and humor to dare a further 
controversion with any one so truly brilliant as my 
fair companion, therefore, name any request, I am 
at your service." 

Lady Emberton takes the arm offered her, chat- 
ting gaily while both walk leisurely across the 
veranda towards the hall that led to the drawing- 
room of the Castle. 



30 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 



Lord Berford gave a brilliant ball, 
Young Kerwin there's invited, 

The Marquis' daughter most of all 
Her very heart's delighted. 

They danced all night 'till ere the dav/n. 
Lords, earls, dukes, did chide her. 

But she was nought of coward born. 
And love's own light did guide her. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 31 

Desperate with jealousy over the attention paid 
the young American naval officers by all the ladies, 
and especially that of Lady Weland and the charm- 
ing young widow, both centers of attraction, young, 

beautiful, and vivacious, the Earl of X ventured 

to rebuke Fair Elda for her numerous dances with 
Captain Kerwin, but with a flash of sparkling wit 
and humor not infrequently found among the 
Australians, and her face radiant with smiles, she 
quickly changed rebuke to ridicule, and the Earl, 
whose general make-up presented the gaity of an 
undertaker on duty, was forced to smile. 




THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 



Her ardent love, her vivid mien, 
A Yankee maid you'd thought her, 

When in her Sidney home, again. 
Is Marquis Weland's daughter. 

Missives came from many a port. 
From many lands and stations, 

To praise, perchance, to pay her court 
As fairest of creation's. 

And one, before her heart and pen 
Its lines had time to answer, 

The Yankee fleet from o'er the main, 
Off Sidney bay cast anchor. 

Another came, its seal she knew, 
The mark the seal did cover, 

'Twas Captain Kerwin's, gallant true. 
Her daring Yankee lover. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 83 

Now comes the Duke of C who in other days 

was deeply in love with Nelvy, but whose princely 
position made it impossible to contract an honorable 
marriage with the daughter of a hotel-keeper, 
although the beautiful Nelvy repeatedly refused 
his many requests for a private interview and his 
love received no more incouragement from its 
object than an occasional chat among the guests in 
the drawing-room of the Aukland Hotel. It was in 
those days he formed the friend-ship of Marquis 
Weland (his gallant rival). Those days, like those 
people, are gone, yet the Duke remains, young, (at 
least in his own estimation) . In the whirl of London 
society, he meets Lady Weland; he is still single, 
though he never tells why. 

His Grace (the Duke) is not a man of many 
words. "Another Nelvy," he soliloquized. "There 
is now no social barrier; she is a lady, born to rank 
and title; she shall be mine." 

He never asked himself if he might not find that 
the prize he expected to so readily win was more 
than falls to the average Duke, "A heart and a 
hand," oh no! Neither did he ever believe that the 



34 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 

noble-minded Nelvj^ cared as little for himself as 
for his title, and would modestly refuse both, had 
they been offered her. 

He pressed his suit for the hand of the beautiful, 
and, I might add, immensely wealthy young heiress, 
with a formality that would do justice to the King 
himself. He recited to her a brilliant history of 
ancestors, lords, earls, dukes and princes, some 
kings and queens, all dead, of course; but Fair Elda 
was too much alive with the meeting at the Cape 
and the whole-hearted manner of the Yankee 
officers fresh in her mind. She simply smiled. 

"Well, what do you think?'' said His Grace. 

"Why, sir, I think you have a great many dead 
friends." 

The Duke finding that rank and title held little 
charm for Lady Weland, also her marked attention 
to Captain Kerwin, resolved to v/rite to Marquis 
Weland and clearly state the state. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 85 



London Court 
September 10th, 19— 
Marquis Weland, 

My Dear Friend: 

Trusting you will pardon the 
apparent liberty I take to express my views on 
such a personal and extremely tender topic. 
However, our former friendship, together with 
the distinctive social position we each occupy, 
will doubtless prove my well meaning in what 
might otherwise be considered intrusion into your 
family affairs. Y'our beautiful daughter, (the Fair 
Lady Weland) shows decided democratic ideas, 
expresses her admiration for republican government, 
and I have reason to believe even her heart has 
a course in that direction; therefore, for the sake 
of our youthful friendship, I would suggest an 
entire change. If you take your fair daughter 
to this fashionable city, it would have a different 
effect on her taste and character, from the rather 
quiet manner of the Colonists. Here, the whirl 
of social influence would stimulate advancement 
of rank, rather than the risk of retreat, if not 
the complete resignation of title. Any time you 
desire to spend a season here, my castle is at 
your service. 

I am, dear sir, in strict confidence. 
Your ever sincere friend, 
Duke of C— , 



S6 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 

Forewarned of the shadow, or sunshine, as 
the case might prove, that hovered around his 
lovely daughter, the Marquis decided mentally to 
meet the situation in a reasoning manner. There 
was reason, however, which Marqris Weland 
could never forget, why he could not entirely 
discountenance love, but he silently answered to his 
questioning conscience, "This is a man's world, he 
takes woman to his social sphere, he has the right 
to love, but she must wait the proposal, and take 
the highest offer." 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 37 



Fair Elda in the parlor sat, 

The Marquis, there, soon sought her, 
To have their merry evening chat. 

The Noble and his daughter. 

The candles shed refulgent light. 

The fire sparkled warmer. 
On Elda fair, all robed in white, 

A perfect angel charmer. 

Her father to the maid drew near, 
Said, "Elda, dear, take warning. 

The Yankee fleet in port is here, 
I visit them next morning— 

"The garb they wear demands respect. 
Though peasant blood may taint them. 

Tomorrow night they'll be our guests. 
What e'er our fancies paint them." 



38 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 



Here the long slumbering spirit of O'Dv^^r shed 
its fiery luster from the eyes of Fair Elda. Never 
before did she present such perfect lovliness as, 
rising to her feet, she turned to her father with 
gentle yet firm disproval of his sentiment. 

"My dear father, permit me to state, that I respect 
or despise no garb; you may robe a coward in 
purple plush, he may wear it with a good grace as 
long as hidings protect him, but give me a gallant 
man whatever cloth or color he w^ears." 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 39 



"Why father," said the maiden fair, 
"How could their blood degrade them. 

What need they for blank title care 
Since valor, noble made them? 

"High honor, love, and freedom's flag. 
Those men these all possessing, 

Why dare we of vain titles brag? 
'Tis foolish and distressing. 

" 'T is vain my father, dear, to boast 
Of blood, by work untainted, 

While gallants may respect our coast, 
Nor heed us ere acquainted." 

The Marquis had his secret fears 

Of naval love, and daring, 
While Elda, careless, light appears, 

Her wonted smile still wearing. 



40 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 

Full well he new his daughter's love 

Of valor, worth, and honor, 
As well he knew how vain 't would prove 

To wrest those fancies from her. 

Of beauty's charm and wealth untold 
She'd more than mortal's measure. 

And neither saucy, stiff, or bold. 
Though handsome, tall, and clever. 

By fortune's chance, and beauty's charm, 
Were knightly swains around her, 

No human heart could think of harm 
'Mid scenes that sparkled round her. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 41 

Somewhat alarmed over the personal and political 
views expressed by his fair daughter in the afore- 
mentioned interview, the Marquis took the Ducal 
warning seriously, and as a personal concern 
not infrequently exhibited among the nobility, in 
supprt of a tottering title, and so expressed his 
sentiment in the following letter. 



42 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 



Sidney Square, 
Weland Coukt, 
September 16th, 19— 
Your Grace, Duke op C- 
My Dear Friend, 

The appreciation which I feel 
regarding your personal concern for the welfare 
of my idolized daughter cannot readily get framed 
into words, less still can the pen portray such 
words, but as the pure streams rush on to mingle 
their waters in the deep river, together to be 
carried on to the sea, so rush on the thought 
stream of noble minds to meet and mingle in 
the "river of life" ere we reach "The Great 
Ethereal Sea." So, resting in anticipation of your 
annual visit, which I expect in the near future, 
to the Colonies, and the favor of your most 
estimable sojourn at my Court, and wishing you 
fair weather and a pleasant voyage 
I am, dear friend, 
Yours, ever sincerely, 
George, Marquis of Weland. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 43 



"Dear Elda." said her father fond, 
"Who would be here to cheer me 

If you should seek some other land— 
Another sphere, and leave me? 

''Now Weland's blood, and birth, is known 

For many a generation 
In every noble English home. 

The pride of all the nation. 

'Xook on those suitors, earls, dukes, 

Would any lady flatter. 
My word's advice, and not rebukes. 

Fair Elda, dear, my daughter. 

''And yet I feel that none would dare 

To win my darling daughter 
V/ithout that rank and title fair 

That ancestry has brought her," 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 



Here, Fair Elda recites the lines of an impromptu 
lyric to her devoted parent, entitled, "Think on the 
Fair and Smile on the True." {See Lyric No. 6) 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 45 



"Why, father, you are all to me 
That human love can cover, 

I give you all the love, you see, 
Of father and of mother. 

"So do not sit and ponder here 
O'er fortune, fame, and title, 

A gallant man you ne'er need fear, 
But shun the vain and idle. 

"Think on the flag, its freedom's worth. 
Those gallant men that fly it, 

Think on the praise it thunders forth. 
Can honor bright deny it. 

"And who dare tell a noble man 
His humble birth degrades him, 

Then boast he, of a class or clan 
That idle pomp has made him. 



AQ THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 



"The lilies in the garden fair, 
No brush they need to paint them. 

And roses with a fragrance rare, 
Man's art can only taint them." 

Fair Elda was her given name. 

Cold titles bound her other, 
An only child to wealth and fame, 

Since Heaven claimed her brother — 

But roses in the garden fair. 
Will sometimes droop and wither 

Back to the earth with fragrance rare, 
Forever, and forever. 

Lords, earls, dukes, and other men, 

To win her did endeavor. 
When asked who, soon her heart would win. 

She simply answered, "never." 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 

Light-hearted, gay, and free from care, 

In ball-room or at dinner, 
She smiled as sweet with face as fair, 

On earthly saint or sinner. 




48 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 

Lady Emberton— ij^he champion of cheerfulness, 
and bosom friend of Fair Elda) after a visit to the 
East Indias. arrives at Weland Castle and after an 
affectionate embrace, Lady Emberton perceiving a 
troubled look on the face of her fair companion and 
hostess, exclaimed, "Why bless me, my dear ! what 
is the matter, are you ill, or has something terrible 
happened, Puss eloped Vvdth Polly, or any such 
catastrophe, where is your radiant smile? I must 
know or I will spend my last sixpence and then 
raffle my bonnet to pay for the search." 

Fair Elda—'' Ah\ Dena, you can always be jocose, 
you have mother, brothers, and sisters to confide 
in. My father, whom I so dearly love, has been 
informed by some other than me, of my meeting 
with the Captain, and even now shows opposition 
to my admiration. What, when he hears as he 
must, some day, the true secret of my love. Oh! 
Dena, the battle is hard, my father's pride and my 
own love, all to fight out alone. Plow often 1 
have v/ished (though I knew my wish was about as 
logical as that of the child, who after watching for 
S3me time at a new moon, asked her father to get 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 49 

it dov/n to her, so she could sit in its center, catch 
hold of both ends, and use it for a rocking-chair) 
for the love and companionship of a mother, 
brothers, and sisters. Then, my father's divided 
love might not demand such entire submission 
to his pride." 

Lady Emberton— ''My dear Elda, I can tell you 
what to do, if that will bring back your wonted 
smile. You just simply marry the grouchy old 
duke. You will then be 'a duchess.' Just imagine 
the social advancement, access to the royal court 
circle, a sparkling gem on the right arm of 'His 
Grace,' the homage of the king, the envy of half 
the ladies of London, and the flattery and 
admiration of all. Now if this piece of advice does 
not meet your approval, as I happen to know it is 
your father's wish, you may be thankful you have 
but one to reason against. When Lord Emberton 
(my deceased husband) proposed to mxe, (or rather 
to my father) I had over a dozen — a father, mother, 
three brothers, four sisters, grandfather, uncle, and 
two maiden aunts. There is a proverbial saying 
'many hands make light work,' well it was 'many 



50 THE*NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 

tongues' in this case. I was the youngest, and the 
only one who did not want to marry the lord, and 
when all had their say in the matter, there was 
nothing left for me to say, and still less to do; there 
was not an unguarded skylight through which I 
might escape, though in the lonely stillness of the 
midnight before my wedding-day, only my heart, 
could fly to the outstretched arms of the poor and 
noble prince of honor, to whom I could so willingly 
and so happily give my hand. 

But name not the follies unnumbered, 

Or ask not the minstrels to sing 
The pain of the hearts that are sundered, 

The poison of vanity's sting." 

Fair Elda—iRer lips quiverirg in open combat 
between a tear and a smile) "Poor girl, yet you are 
always so cheerful, it does seem sad to have you 
wear that horrid black bonnet, so young, so—" 

Lady Emberton—Interrupts, "Why my dear, it is 
as refreshing as a cloud in the tropics, my deceased 
husband's v/ill provided me a thousand a month 
and a widow's vail for two years thenceforth. I 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 51 

will enter no further detail, but when the clouds 
roil by, and the sun shines, I will bask beneath its 
rays, in a bonnet of my own choice." 

Fair Elda — "My dear Dena, you take such a 
jocular view of everything, but let me tell you this, 
that the whole British army could not force me to 
marry a man I did not love." 

Lady Emberton— ''LoYel Love, my dear, is a mild 
statement, suppose you'd say 'not tolerate.' The 
British army placed the great emperor on yonder 
rocky island, granting, that, that is not as bad as to 
marry against your heart's dictates, but that has 
been done too." 

Fair Elda - "Then what in the Vv^orld can I do? 
I vow I will never marry an Englishman; there is 
only one man in all the world for me." 

Lady Emberton — (teasingiy) "And if that's not 
the one you happen to want, he is a whole lot too 
m^any." (Both laugh) 

Fair Elda— ''You are positively cruel, my dear 
Dena, in your manner of ridicule, yet your 
statements v/orry me; do search your spacious 
mind for some practical advice to give m.e." 



52 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 

Lady Emberton— ''Marry the Captain without 
further ceremony." 

Fair Elda~''But, Dena, I don't know if he wants 
me, in the meantime, I want nobody else." 

Lady Emberton — "Well I know he does, or 
anybody else does who ever saw him in your 
company. I wish I was— oh well! that would 
be telling." 

Fair Elda—^'He never quite told me so, and when 
we met and parted at the Cape, he was as courteous 
and respectful to my maid as he was to me, I think 
it was his manner of true courtesy to women in 
general (which I have learned is the custom of his 
country) that excited my admiration in the first 
instance, from which love so readily and so rapidly 
grows. Here, every step higher you get in rank, 
you are given that much more courtesy, until, I 
think, a queen must be perfectly miserable with 
never a hope of a true friendly handshake, or a 
natural smile." 

Lady Emberton — "And as you com^e down until 
you get to what you might call 'no rank' such as I 
(being youngest daughter) before I became Lady 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 53 

Emberton, you may be thankful for 'nothing' if you 
are kindly allowed to live," 

Fair Elda— ''Well Dena, we will have the ball at 
the Castle here, on Wednesday night. The 
Marquis has given an invitation to the Yankee 
officers, which has been graciously accepted; I have 
not yet had an opportunity to meet the Captain, but 
aside from all your jokes, I wish I could believe as 
you do about the Captain's love. The Earl of X— - 
and the Duke of C — will be among the number." 

Lady Emberton — "Before the hour to enter the 
ball-room, while the guests are assembled in the 
drawing-room, I will request you to sing Tll 
Marry No Other But You.' I will then see that 
the Captain sings another. I assure you we will 
hear just about what he thinks. A song can always 
tell what you want it to." 

Both ladies break into merry peals of laughter, 
as Fair Elda remarked, "Why Dena, we are 
planning here like rebels preparing to storm a 
garrison." "Allowing so," returned Dena, "yet the 
garrison is open, and at least one invader, can 
safely enter." 



54 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 

The evening of the ball at last arrived, and so 
also arrived the guests at Weland Castle. ''Fair 
Elda," robed in a gown of pale blue silk, trimmed 
in pink roses, a perfect picture of loveliness, greeted 
the young officers v/ith a cheerfulness that had no 
rival. Lady Emberton (the charming young 
widov\r) acted as hostess. At the request of Lady 
Emberton, Fair Elda sang, v/hile her eyes met the 
eyes of the young Captain. {See Lyric No. 7 
entitled, "I'LL Marry No Other But You.") 

The song was finished amid a thunder of 
applause, followed by a silence almost painful, until 
the ever vivacious v/idow, requested that some one 
sing another of the same description. A silence 
followed, then Captain Kerwin, in reply to Lady 
Emberton's personal request, pleaded, "My dear 
lady, though it is beyond my power to render 
anything to vie in beauty with that just rendered, 
yet I will try, in compliance with your wishes." 

Captain Kerwin then sings "I Shall Marry 
None But You" {See Lyric No, 8.) Captain 
Kerwin 's song was followed by another from the 
Earl of X— entitled, "I Love A Queen Though 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 55 

She ¥/ears Not A Crown" (See Lyric No. 9.) 
Next came the rather good natured "Lord Berford" 
who v/ould, if he could, conceal his love for the 
charming j^'oung widow, and sings the following 
careless little ditty, entitled, "Keep Away Love 
From Me" {See Lyric No. 10.) Fair Elda now 
sings an impromptu song, entitled, "If I Were 
Only An Humble Maid" (See Lyric No. 11.) 
Lady Emberton again requests Captain Kerwin 
to sing. 

This time there is no need of apology; all knew 
what a beautiful voice he possessed; yes, he did 
possess a beautiful voice, which he poured out 
from the very depth of his soul in answer to the 
questioning line "If I were only an humble maid," 
its intense feeling reaching straight to the goal for 
which it was intended. 

His listeners sat spell bound, and the proud 
Marquis, though in spite of his social prejudices, 
could not conceal his admiration for the gallant 
principles conveyed in the sentiment of every line 
of the song, entitled "To The Land Of The Free 
I Would Take Thee" {See Lyric No. 12.) 



56 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 



Then at the ball where last they met 
Though knightly swains had sought her, 

The lovely smile Til ne'er forget 
Of Marquis Weland's daughter. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 57 

The hour to enter the ball-room had not yet 
come, there was a stir among the guests, everybody 
was occupied in eager converse with somebody, all, 
save Lady Emberton, who, at that supreme moment 
sat pensive and alone. Presently, one of the officers 
was by her side and requesting her to sing (nothing 
could have been more pleasing to her ladyship 
than this request, and especially from whom it 
came, but, in her coy manner, she pleaded 
the following): 

Lady Emberton— ^'l am afraid, if I would sing, or 
rather, try to (nobody ever was pleased to say I 
sang, though I do occasionally chirup), you would 
all get impatient to dance, and then, the time to 
begin dancing is not for some time yet. So I think 
it better to be excused." 

Officer— ''y^eW then a song that might suggest 
such merriment of mind as to set the feet moving, 
is certainly worthy of appreciation, therefore, no 
excuse is acceptable." 

Lady Emberton— ''Well then, if I must sing, I 
must, that's all. Will you play the accompani- 
ment?" Could the Yankee officer not read the 



58 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 

fair widow's mind, she plainly poured her thoughts 
into the following lyric entitled, "Oh For a Home 
Where all Hearts Can be Free" {See Lyric 
No. 13.) 

The song was ended followed by the unanimous 
applause of all present, although, some admiring 
swains did not fully appreciate the expressed 
sentiment, but all knew the merry widow would 
have her way, and so, the lords, dukes, and earls, 
decided to take her indifference gracefully, and 
Lord Berford (with an affability that would do 
credit to the most gallant son of "Old Glory" 
especially in sight of almost certain defeat in the 
gam.e of hearts) requested the young lieutenant 
to sing, at the same time offering his own 
accompaniment. The request was readily granted. 
The lieutenant sang a refreshing little ditty, entitled 
"We'll all Make Merry 'Till the Morning." 
The merriment, expressed in this number combined 
with the light-hearted manner in which it was 
rendered, created a general infection of gayety, and 
all present joined in the chorus, {see Ditty No. 14) 
nor did the line "v/e'll all make merry 'till the 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 59 

morning" confine itself to the limits of the drawing- 
room, or the spacious ball-room; no, it held sway 
from garret to basement, from hall to garden, and 
from kitchen to kennel. A war of words, and I 
might add some strong gestures, waged among the 
servants, which started between the French house- 
steward and the Chinaman cook. The Chinaman 
had previously lived for some time in California, 
cooked for some of the best families there, and 
so believed himself (as Chinamen usually do) 
thoroughly competent and above the bond of 
dictation. But the house-steward knew better, it 
was his duty to see that everything was the very 
pink of perfection, and to make sure that his duty 
was perfonned to the letter, he took a sample 
glass from each beverage, from English ale to 
champaigne, and from light wine to strong brandy. 
So far, he was contented, everything was palatable, 
now he comes to look after the cooking, and 
incidentally, to give some directions. 

House-Steward— 'Tsiiiez vous Francais, Sing?" 

Sing— ''No savy." 

House- Steivard— Proceeds to give some directions. 



60 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 

Chinaman— ^'Y on do the cookey, I go outside, I 
do the cookey you go outside." The dutiful house- 
steward, determined to leave no duty undone on 
such an important occasion, walks to the range as 
if to inspect something. But the irritated cook 
seized a bowl of boiling broth and dashed it into the 
Frenchman's face; then, in perfect self satisfaction, 
talked the matter over with himself saying (between 
a smile and a growl) "He know he hot, now, he 
do." 

The English butler, impatient about how things 
came to the pantry, flew into a temper which he 
let out on the poor little frightened housemaid 
whose duty was between the kitchen and pantry, 
and who was only a short time in the employ of 
Weland House. The butler had some occasion to 
step into the servants' hall. There he met Jimey 
Daly (the coachman) who had overheard his unjust 
reproaches to the poor, little, timid housemaid. 

^?^^/^r— "Heverything is 'orrid 'ere, I think I will 
speak to that 'eathen cook, myself." 

Jimey Daly— ^'YoWd. better not, if you know 
what's good for you." 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 61 

Butler— ''This place is hawful, w*at will those 
lords, dukes, and heads, think w'en they go 'ome 
to hold Hengland ?" 

Jimey Daly — "I wish your lords and old England 
were in — " 

Butler— 'In 'ell! did you day?" 

Jimey Daly—"NOy I would not spoil my good 
grammar, but with a h in front of your ell that 
would be a good place for them." 

Riot reigned in the servants' quarters, which the 
haughty housekeeper, (Miss Myra Grunston, an 
ancient maiden, less from choice than from not 
being chosen, "the daughter of a broken down 
gentleman," whose pride was so much larger than 
her pocket book, and whose art could not meet the 
demands of her heart, whose position held her 
above the servants, and beneath her employers, 
who dined by herself, lived by herself, loved by 
herself, was nobody's favorite) was unable to quell. 
She had to go summon the aid of the very "Fair 
Elda" herself, whom everybody loved, and nobody 
feared. Even the Chinaman said "you all right, 



62 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 

me do eberyting you like." Everything ran smooth 
again among the servants, even the nervous Kttle 
housemaid took courage in sight of the pleasant 
smile of "Fair Elda," but, the housekeeper, in her 
own secret heart, vowed she would never, never, 
never, hire another Chinaman. 

The clock in the castle tov/er, struck eleven, 
there was yet an hour before the grand march 
would take place. Lord Berford requested the Fair 
Lady Ems (whose every look showed a yearning 
for the attention of the Earl of X—) to sing. She 
sang the song, entitled, "Beautiful England Fair 
Vanity's Shrine Is In Thee." (See Lyric No, 15.) 
This number, which was certainly beautifully 
rendered, received a wonderful applause, and 
whatever the Yankees thought of the sentiment 
expressed, the flattery the fair lady received from 
them turned her head and I might add, her 
heart too. 

Miss Julia Jones— {A young and beautiful 
governess, and incidentally an heiress to some 
millions recently left her by a deceased uncle in 
Virginia) was requested to sing by the Countess of 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 63 

Ailey. Visions of the haughty Countess on other 
occasions, and of shady hue, now flitted before the 
mind's eye of the former Httle governess, now "the 
flattered heiress" and, tossing formality to the 
wind, she sang the uncouth and rolicing little song 
entitled, "Oh ! What a Kind and a Lovable Man 
My Hubby Has Been to Me" {See Lyric No. 16.) 
Nothing could have commanded greater applause 
than that given this rusticated little ditty, perhaps 
it was the natural carelessness with which she 
sang it that made it all the more novel. Lord 
Berford, who alw^ays hovered somewhere near the 
charming young widow, seating himself beside her 
asked my lady if she could sing anything better 
than that. 

Lady Emberton— {to his lordship) "I think it 
impossible to get anything better, but I believe I 
can do worse," and almost immediately began to 
sing to the sam.e ragtime tune "A Little of Love 
Does Me" {See Lyric No. 17.) All present sat 
spellbound at this repition of rolic, which seemed 
almost an insult to aristocratic dignity, it was so 
unlike the self-sacrificing Lady Emberton as all 



64 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 

remembered her gentle regard for the whims and 
fancies of her ever complaining late husband. 
Even the former little governess (the pretty Julia 
Jones, and faithful friend of the merry widow) 
raised the following question: 

Miss Julia Jones— ''My dear Dena, how could 
you ever voice those lines, you whose nature is as 
truly noble and gentle as your heart is mirthful ?" 

Lady Emberton — "And you, my dear Julia, how 
can you give voice to such sentiment as 'live in a 
calico tent, and, work to pay the rent V I must 
confess I don't believe you, truly, I believe you 
have had as bad a sample of work as I have had of 
other things, so let's compromise, here comes the 
princely Lord Ailey." (Lady Emberton who always 
loved the former pretty governess, and knew the 
secret of the Ailey romance, the cruel pride of the 
Countess, the two years travel on the Continent, 
and the broken promises, to whom rank was one 
thing, but love and honor was everything, saw the 
governess become an heiress, also saw the decided 
change in the demeanour of that haughty lady, to 
the now flattered heiress and could scarce conceal 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 65 

her feelings and as the grave young lord gave his 
long low bow of formal courtesy, both ladies broke 
into such a merry peal of laughter, that it melted 
the gravity of the noble Lord Ailey into a gayety 
that might do credit to an amateur comedian. 

Lord Ailey - To Miss Julia Jones "Well, My Dear 
Miss Julia, you have resigned your position with 
the Marchioness of H~. Permit me to congratulate 
you, on your advance of fortune, and I may add, 
social position. 

M/s5 /(9;^^5— Interrupts, "social position" with a 
tinge of anger, and the memory of a dead love. 
"My dear Lord Ailey, there is no advancement in 
my social position, therefore, congratulation is a 
superfluity. I possess an education, and an ability 
to educate, speak and teach seven languages, also 
music and art. Pray what do you call social 
position? I never did, as I could see no reason to 
consider myself beneath any position. True, fate 
did not always furnish me a couch on which to 
recline in idleness and luxury, or hang round me 
the cold chain of title with which to toy, yet it has 
given me a gift far greater, one which chains can't 



66 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 

bind, and gold can't buy, 'a free heart and a 
happy mind/'' 

Lord Alley— ''My dear Miss Jones, if my words 
meant offense, I am heartily sorry, yes my dear 
Julia, your pardon I would ask on my very knees. 
Had my speech been a blunder 'twas only the 
sparkling cinders of the lingering love that the 
pride of my social surrounding tried in vain to 
stamp from my heart, would no longer be controlled, 
and so expressed my joy on the occasion of your 
leaving the drudge of the school-room." 

Miss Julia Jones— -''And in resigning the school- 
room I resign every social strain of the pure and 
simple. I love children. Have you ever read the 
poem entitled, 'The Lovable Face of a Child?' " 
(See poem No. 18.) 

Lord Alley— ''But, my dear Julia, will you not 
permit me to make atonement for what may seem 
to you coldness or neglect in the past two years. 
Every moment since we parted seemed to me a 
lifetime, the cruel self-denial which constantly rent 
my heart was all a sacrifice to my mother's pride. 
But now, the cross has fallen. She has at length, 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 67 

to my unspeakable joy, come to realize the great 
truth, the sublimity of a true and noble love/' 

Miss Julia Jones — ''Dear good soul. Then you 
must have been dining on foxglove and watercress 
recently, and so have propagated a heart in that 
vacant space, while mine might break if it would. 
But who cared about the heart of a governess? 
certainly not you, or your vain mother. There is 
no harm done, therefore, nothing to atone for. 
The spirit of my love you held captive for a time, 
as a lark is sometimes caught and held by some 
careless bird-fancier until neglected and forgotten 
the bird finds an opening and again flies to the high 
sphere of true freedom. In like manner are open 
the wings of my spirit. In a few days I will sail to 
America, the land of fortune and freedom." 

Lord Ailey — "But you will return again ? There, 
you will fail to find that form of culture which is, 
undoubtedly, an absolute necessity to complete the 
measure of your happiness. With your unlimited 
ambition you will soon tire of the hum-drum 
sameness, no rank, no fame, no distinctive title." 

Miss Julia Jones — Interrupts, "Title, my good 



68 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 

lord, might decorate a tomb-stone where lies the 
body of one who leaves the world no other mark 
by which to be remembered, and rank is no more 
to me than the jingle of empty seashells. I will 
enter no further detail about America or American 
principles as I have left the school-room, and 
believed you had, a long time ago, but your 
education is sadly deficient, and for that reason 
would advise your haughty mother to take her 
simple son for another two years' trip around the 
world, nor stop at Continental Europe, and think 
you have traveled the world. There is a land 
of far greater interest to humanity, a land of 
opportunity and enterprise. Fate can play such 
strange pranks, that a knowledge of the truly noble 
may yet prove itself to you, a boon." 
Lor^ A//^3^~"But,my dear Julia,our mutual love." 
Miss Jones— '''The rebound of a ball of worth, is 
greater than the bound, so with a heart. Say no 
more about love. For, 

**Thy heart must be free from the fetters 

Of vanity's false dignity, 
Thy soul must be true to the letters 

That spell out the word purity. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 69 

*'So waste, sir, no more of your language, 

Your fancies or false words on me, 
For mine's not a spirit to languish 

O'er vows that v/ere broken by thee," 

Lord Ailey—^'My dear Julia, can you forget your 
promise, you, with face so fair, a heart so true, and 
mind so noble ? Will you not forgive even though 
I kneel here before you ? My heart, my love, my 
very life I lay at your feet. Is there no hope of 
forgiveness, or must I but live to regret ?" 

Miss Julia Jones— ''li I could believe you truly 
loved me you still might win the heart and the 
hand that I, and I only, have the right to control. 
To gain this heart and hand you must be a man — 
(not a lord) you can resign your title, and leave 
your estate to an institution or college, for the 
education of the children of disinherited nobility, 
(who, by chance, possessed true hearts and followed 
their hearts' dictates) then, we can live in perfect 
happiness in that new sphere of ti*ue freedom^ 
the United States. " 

Lord Ailey—''MY dear Julia, your stipulations are 
astounding. Pray ! how could I resign that mark 
of social distinction which has been my birthright 



70 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 

for ages? Title, my dear, is that distinctive mark 
that demonstrates the individual superiority to 
the general populace. So you see the utter 
impossibility of such a stupendous sacrifice on 
my part. I would be nothing without it, and 
you-^only." 

Miss Jones— Interrupted. "And less with it my 
good lord, and I, you inquire ? I am the daughter 
of Lady Elizabeth and Patrick-Joseph Jones (who 
would not change a single drop of his Irish blood 
for all the breath of kings). My mother was 
disinherited by her father, because she married the 
man she loved, who had the heart to love and the 
hand to provide. In love they lived, in love they 
died at an early age. I was left to the tender care 
of my father's brother, the result of whose honest 
toil (long before fortune smiled favourably on him) 
paid to rear and educate me. 

Now, in the dim shadow of life's receding years, 
and lonely and loveless, my grandfather regrets his 
cruel treatment of his own, and only child, tries to 
make amends for the past, by offering to make me 
his heiress, and establish me as. Lady Ontaigue, 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 71 

the envied mistress of his whole possessions, but, 
while I pity him in his loneliness through the 
blindness of his early pride, I would not change 
one happy thought for Briton's Royal robes." 

Miss Jones then hums a merry little tune half 
aloud to his lordship, entitled 'Tll Bid Farewell 
TO Sidney in the Morning," while she waits for 
the young Virginian counselor who now comes to 
claim her for their next waltz. {See Lyric No. 19), 

Lord Alley left to himself, muses over his lost 
love, and the lost charce of at least a million gold 
guineas more than he ever will capture with one of 
his cool, titled ladies, calls himself a name that the 
bible forbids man to call his brother. Awaking 
from his short reverie he is almost terror-stricken 
to see the pleasant faces of Fair Elda and Captain 
Kerwin beaming with smiles, almost besides him. 
Could they have heard ? thought he, oh no, they 
looked as though they could hear but the sweetest 
music, for bliss shone on each countenance. So he 
was at peace on that subject. 



72 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 

Lord Lindy, for her smiles, would die, 

Lord Rockford, for her blushes, 
Lord Norman danced in idolance 

Unto the lady's wishes. 

The band played up a merry tune 

As Captain Kerwin entered, 
And every eye of buds in bloom 

Was on the Captain centered. 

For tune entitled "Let Every Man Feel Gay 
AND Young and Every Maid Look Cheery," see 
Lyric No. 20. 

The beauty of that ball-room bright. 

And the men of high renown, 
And faces beaming with delight, 

Of those queens without a crown 

No human heart could e'er forget. 

Or remember with a frown. 
And though it pains, can I regret 

That sweet night in Sidney town. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 73 



Fair Elda with the Captain danced 
Though the lords did on him frown, 

And Cupid, sure, two hearts had lanced 
In fair Sidney's merry town. 

The dance was o'er, the maid sat down 

Behind a v/ealth of roses, 
The Captain to the fragrance drawn, 

A walk outside proposes. 

They strayed beneath the fragrant leaves. 
No thought of sorrow fearing. 

And Luna 'mong the tall palm trees 
In secret, there, v/as peering. 

Fair Elda at the bright moon glanced. 
Young Kerwin, the rose-bushes. 

And each another step advanced, 
And each had secret wishes. 



74 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 



"Tomorrow," said the Captain young, 
"Our fleet this port is leaving," 

The lady closer to him clung. 
As if in secret grieving. 

He told her stories of the sea, 
Of gallant deeds and daring, 

But coward 'most confessed was he. 
To part with her when nearing. 

They plighted troth and vows of love. 
Beneath the moonbeam's shining. 

Each happy as a cooing dove. 
Each future joys divining. 

He held her jewelled lily hand. 
Not e'en a glove did cover. 

He held her pure and noble heart, 
Her brave accepted lover. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 75 

There was a recess between dances and the 
Countess of Alley who was not quite as young as 
she used to be, though possessing most of her 
beauty, and all of her hauteur, feeling a little 
fatigued, decided to get away to a quiet corner, 
v/here, alone, she might take a few moments 
respite, so she walked into the conservatory, there, 
she came straight on to her son who had, perhaps, 
for the same reason, sought the same secluded 
corner, and was so preoccupied with himself, and 
so much interested in his own company, that he 
was almost entirely unprepared in mind and 
manner to meet the following interview. Yet the 
Countess was his mother, and he could not 
deny her any request, or fail to answer her 
every question. 

Countess— ''Welly my son, I am so glad to meet 
you here, and alone. This evening is perfectly 
enchanting. Hov/ beautiful the moon looks as one 
looks through the trees. It seems as though all 
nature were smiling tonight. But, tell me, have 
you made it all right with the heiress ?" 



76 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 

Lord Alley— ''No, my dear mother, but she has 
made it all right v/ith me." 

Copmtess— ''Then, you have given up all thought 
of marrying the beautiful Lady Elmerina ? and the 
dear sweet girl so much in love with you, the 
thought almost pains me, for I feel somev/hat to 
blame, but she shall not be forgotten. I will see 
that she meets another who may prove as worthy, 
though I know there is none can equal my son." 

The Countess then recites the following im- 
promptu poem: 



*'0h love, thou sweet deceiver, 
What angel from above 

Can teach the fond believer 
What constancy can prove." 



Lord Alley— "I never had a thought of marrying 
Lady Elmerina to give up, nor do I think she could 
think so very much about me since I have never 
recognised her as more than my mother's respected 
friend, and, even had the case been otherwise, she 
has as good a right to forget me as I had to forget 
pretty Julia Jones, v/hen, in compliance with your 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 77 

wishes, I bade her farewell for two years, and then, 
unmanfully, broke all the promises I had made her." 

Countess — "Promises like those, my dear son, 
are made to be broken. Miss Jones was then but a 
governess, unaccustomed to the dainty luxuries of 
high life, and entirely beneath your social sphere. 
Those promises, my dear, were no m.ore than a 
heated pulse-beat, or a thoughtless, boyish fancy. 
Under those conditions, you had every right to 
forget her, yet I have not a doubt, that v/ith her 
present enormous fortune she could carry the title 
of Lady Alley, with a good grace." 

Lord Alley— '"'My dear mother, alas, fair JuHa 
Jones or anybody else, will never bear the title of 
'Lady Alley' as far as I am concerned and if you 
disapprove of my sentiment, you know who is 
most to blame." 

Countess— ''My dear son, we must forget the past 
and begin over." 

Lord y4/%— "What would you have me begin?" 

Countess— ''YoMV former love affair with the 
handsome heiress." 



78 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 

Lord Ailey~''l have already told you, that that 
is all over, and I should rather begin over the 
Crimea war (although I can boast but little the 
brilliance of the brave) then again encounter the 
just rebukes for the smouldering love of the former 
pretty governess, now the flattered heiress." 

Countess— ''You must not waste words or 
thoughts on such folly. Sentiment, my dear, is one 
thing; society is everything. The king cannot 
always marry the lady he loves even though he has 
the right to rule the realm. I think Cupid is very 
kind to turn the tide of fortune towards your 
special favor. Here comes the lady. I will 
advance to meet her; we will have a pleasant little 
chat between dances. How charming she looks." 

Lord Alley — "She always possessed the natural 
sweetness, combined with independence, that goes 
a long way to produce charm." 

Countess—Meeis Miss Jones. "I am delighted to 
see you so happy. You look like a perfect picture." 

Miss Jones— ''Oh ! thank you, it is very kind of 
your ladyship to say so, I feel highly flattered." 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 79 

Countess — 'Is it true, my dear, that you are 
arranging for a visit to the United States ?" 

Miss ones — "That is perfectly true, madam; 
furthermore, I have no intention of a hasty return." 

Miss Jones then, unrequested, sings a careless 
little lyric, entitled "I Bid You The Top Of The 
Morning," {see Lyric No. 21) and then takes a 
hasty departure from the countess, to meet the 
young officer who is her partner for the next dance. 

Never before had the countess been foiled in 
any undertaking. Almost breathless, she walked 
out on the veranda where she might breathe freer 
and regain her composure. Seating herself in an 
armchair, alone, she thought the matter over, and 
enjoying that perfect freedom that vacant space 
affords the soliloquist, she gave voice to her feelings 
in the following verses. 



Why dare she to speak with such pertness to me, 
She, who's born a commoneer's daughter, 

Or mention a land than dear England more free, 
No matter what gain it has brought her. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 

Though fate on her smiled, strewed her rough patb 
with gold, 

Forgetting his pride a lord sought her, 
'Twas v/ell that she proved how ungentle and bold. 

Will still be a commoneer's daughter. 

No matter what star will her clouded path light. 

To steer her far OTer the water, 
No matter what jewels her bosom bedight. 

She's still but a commoneer's daughter. 

And why do I worry, and why do I fret. 
My equal I ne'er could have thought her. 

For had my son v/on her I ne'er could forget. 
He wedded a commoneer's daughter. 

Yet somethings about her I cannot forget. 
That have seemed with a lustre to shine. 

And somehow I secretly feel a regret 
That her spirit and pride v/ere not mine. 



Such were the musings and mental arguments 
of the Countess, until roused by the noise of 
approaching footsteps and animated voices. Turn- 
ing around, her eyes met the pleasant smile of 
the young and handsome Lord Kilbane and the 
Earl of X—. 

Lord Kilbane— Addressing the Countess as both 
gentlemen seated themselves on either side of her 
ladyship. 'Tou here, alone; an opportunity like 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 81 

this for a quiet chat with your ladyship is so 
unusual, but it seems as if everything were unusual 
tonight. Have you heard that Miss Julia Jones 
(the new American heiress) is the daughter of Lady 
Elizabeth, the disinherited daughter and only child 
of the Earl of Ontaigue. The Earl has repented 
for his unkindness to his child and the cruel pride 
that would not listen to her dying request to come 
and speak one kind word, one word of forgiveness 
for what in right and justice, no true man could 
call a crime. He has now, in the sunset of his life, 
proclaimed Julia Jones (his granddaughter) the 
legal heir to his enormous estates." 

Countess — "Then tomorrow she will doubtless 
hear herself addressed with the title of 'lady.' I 
wonder what she v/ill think of herself, the change 
is so wonderful from a mere governess to fortune 
and fame too. Think of it, 'Lady Ontaigue.' " 

Lord Kilbane — "She thinks herself, as she always 
did, free and independent. She has refused the 
title that follows the Ontaigue estates, but has 
accepted its revenue, which she will turn over to 
the maintainence of a college for the education of 



82 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 

the children of disinherited nobles. Title holds no 
attraction for her. She shows a greater regard for 
the company of that young American lawyer (who 
has come here on account of matters regarding the 
estate of her deceased uncle) than anything I know 
of. She danced most of the evening with him, he 
calls her Julia and she calls him Jim." 

"Simply Jim" put in the Earl. "Fd say lucky 
Jim," said Lord Alley (who held a vacant space in 
his heart and his home too, had she never become 
an heiress.) 

The Duke of C — , who had made the trip from 
London for the occasion, and naturally received 
very little attention from Fair Elda, was engaged 
in eager converse with Marquis Weland, the Duke 
urging the advisability of a year's sojourn in the 
British metropolis, and carefully pointing out the 
marked attention between Fair Elda and the 
young American. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 83 



Beneath the stars in Sidney, there, 
They told the same old story, 

How each would be to each as fair. 
When feeble old and hoary. 

Fair fortune on them calmly looked, 
But fate, that reckless rover. 

The roses from the garden plucked 
Of lady and of lover. 

His noble form and heart above 
All else who ever sought her. 

Oh ! fancy Captain Kerwin's love 
For Marquis Weland's daughter. 

He pressed her to his manly heart, 
They kissed, he soon must part her. 

While petrals, ere the fleet did start 
Were shrieking o'er the water. 



84 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 

Fair Elda sings "When Gained Are The Hopes 
That We Cherish" which hints an elopement. 
{See Lyric 22) Elopement impossible. {See promise 
in Lyric 23) 'Tll Still, My Dear Elda, Cling 
Fondly To Thee." 

Next day our ship was bound to start 

To sail the briny waters, 
Though love-ties bound the Captain's heart 

And Marquis Weland's daughter's. 

See Captain Kerwin's parting song {Lyric 24) 
"My Soul Will Seek And Find Thee." 

Oh ! when has love's light brittle barque 
Sailed o'er a sea's smooth w^ater, 

To Captain Kerwin's story, hark. 
And Marquis Weland's daughter. 

The furious sea was heaving 

As our gallant ship set sail. 
Though safe, the port we were leaving. 

Yet more fiercely blew the gale. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 



When out upon tte ocean deep, 
More furious blew the storm, 

And soon upon our good ship's deck 
Arose cries and wild alarm. 

Our ship had sprung a fatal leak. 
But our sailors young and brave, 

Most manfully at work did keep 
For all of the lives to save. 

For two whole days at work we kept 
Still hoping for assistance, 

Until the storm had fiercely swept 
Our flag from its existence. 

The Captain ordered, "to the boats," 
For the ship we could not save, 

We hastened then for life to boats, 
Or to fight the stormy wave. 



B^ THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 



Two hundred souls, alas, that nighty 
Though fierce the st(Hin did rave. 

Pulled out, the stormy waves to fight^ 
Else meet a watery grave. 

Few, few, have lived to tell the tale. 

Many a heart is broken, 
And many a maid in hopes dwell. 

To hear some loved words spoken. 

And one, alas, for fondest love. 

Though knightly swains had sought her. 
Our Captain loved, all else above, 

The Noble's only daughter. 

How fond she gazed o'er Sidney bay 
The day our ship was leaving. 

Why there she stood, ah, who can say 
What pain her heart was wreathing. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 87 



The fleet far off from the bay, yet Fair Elda, 
while gazing on the waters, sings "Blow Him 
Sweet Breezes, Oh Blow Him Fair Weather" 
{See Lyric 25,) 

Of all our men, were left but three 

To tell the sad disaster, 
A note, our Captain gave to me— 

If I might live him after— 

To give the maid, his bride to be, 

And tell her still he loved her. 
And should his grave be on the sea, 

His last fond thought was on her. 

Then through the fog and stormy sea, 

We saw, some two days after, 
A glimpse of land, it seemed to be 

An arc upon the water. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 



It was an island, lone and free. 

And on it we took shelter. 
And then our Captain, where was he ? 

Oh I ask the wind and water. 

For days upon that island lone. 
With rocks our only shelter, 

We lived in hope of help to come, 
No food but fish and water. 

The pangs we felt no words can tell, 
Of piercing cold and hunger. 

At latt one comrade sadly fell. 
For he could stand no longer. 

From then, my comrade, Frank, and I 
Clung closer to each other. 

We cheated death, I don't knov/ why, 
While bitter blew the weather. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 89 



From davvn to dark, wdth longing eyes 
We watched the dim horizon, 

At night, lay 'neath a rock, to ease 
Our weary eyes from gazing. 

Some time before the dawn of day, 
We saw a ship approaching, 

It was a barque from Bisky bay, 
Oh ! deep was our devotion. 

With cries for help, we hailed that ship. 
And that did now reward us. 

They took us on their homeward trip, 
And comfort did afford us. 

In many months, I sailed again 

The Australian water. 
And then I sought, but not in vain 

For Sidney's fairest daughter. 



90 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 

I gave to her that letter, drear, 
And its saddened lines, she read 

With blanched cheeks and silent tear, 
'Twas a message from the dead. 

She'd lived in hope of news to hear 
That might her young heart gladden, 

The fatal news, she could not bear, 
She had no heart to sadden. 

{See Lyric 26) "Thinking, Alas, He Was 
Dreaming Of Me." 

Her lovely ringlets round her fell 

Of blond, luxuriant hair, 
Though in a mansion she rnay dwell, 

There is no solace there. 

Next, on her dying bed she lies 

From that twilight until day, 
With heavy sobs and tearful eyes. 

These words, I have heard her say— 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 91 

''Oh make my grave both wide and deep, 

Although I am not his bride, 
And if the shore, his body seek. 

You bury him by my side." 

She then sings "Grieve Not, Oh ! Grieve Not, 
There's No Need Of Sorrow" (See Lyric 27.) 

Her father knelt beside her bed 
And tried to soothe her anguish, 

"Ah father dear, she cried, he is dead 
For whom my life doth languish. 

"You said I dare not give my hand 

To him who loved the water. 
He has my heart, grim death my hand. 

Now farewell loving father. 

"If you did only give consent 
Two lives, perhaps, you would save. 

You may in time your words repent 
When Fm in my lonely grave. 



92 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 



"My mother loved but you alone 
Is life not to all the same ? 

The one I love though dead and gone 
I have lived to love his name. 

"He lies beneath the angry wave, 
And over him flows the brine, 

And when within the silent grave 
The grass will cover mine — 

"Oh think not hard on him who died 

Upon the briny water, 
Come kiss again once more she cried 

Your dying only daughter." 

Her father kissed his only child, 
And he smoothed her silken hair, 

And then in tears and anguish wild 
He cried as in deep dispair: 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTEPw 93 

''My darling child, my soul forgive, 

Could I live my life again, 
I gladly my consent would give 

Whoe'er your true heart would win/' 

The maiden looked with vacant eyes 

Into her fond father's own, 
You loved me then you thought it wise, 

And bless me when I am gone. 

She closed her eyes no more to rise 

She breathed a silent prayer 
She hoped beyond the bright blue skies 

She would meet her lover there. 

Now pale and cold in bridal clothes 

And a casket lined with down, 
To the dark grave this maiden goes, 

Through lovely Sidney town. 



94 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 



They made her grave both long and wide. 

Then for her soul did pray, 
And youths who loved her deeply sighed. 

When their last farewell did say. 

The maid was scarcely laid in grave, 
When betwixt the sea and skies, 

The Captain's body o'er the wave. 
In fair Sidney bay did rise. 

The Noble robed the lifeless clay 

As it were to meet a bride. 
And on the same sad funeral day 

They are both laid side by side. 

Ah, who can stand beside each grave 
And think on fate aught harder, 

Than Captain Kerwin's, young and brave 
And Marquis Weland's daughter. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 95 



Their graves were wet with loving tears, 
Soon, grass began to crown them. 

They differed through the change of years 
From other graves around them. 

The lady's grew a lily fair, 

A rose grew o'er her lover, 
Each grew, the fairest flower there, 

And each, a grave did cover. 

And when they grew so fair and tall. 

Their faces met together 
In true love's knot entwined to fall. 

Where none can e'er them sever. 

Fate's bitter cup is hard to drain 

In luxury or hunger, 
Say what can ever soothe the pain 

Of Marquis Weland's languor. 



96 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 



Now in a mansion's, sad and lone, 

A noble, old and weeping, 
He thinks of loved ones, past and gone. 

His aged heart most breaking. 

He ponders o'er the pleasant past 
When in boyhood gay and young, 

Ah, fairest flowers shortest last. 
When once loved, then plucked, soon gone. 

He thinks of her bright pleasing smile 

Who was his beauteous bride, 
That fair young maid so free from guile 

Who for him, then would have died. 

He thinks of a loved virgin young 

And of her gallant lover. 
In grief he cried 'twas cruel wrong 

Two loyal hearts to sever. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 97 



There are no children fond and dear, 

No loving lips to bless him. 
There are no smiles his heart to cheer, 

No fair hands to caress him. 

He loved but once, a love in twain, 

His wife and only daughter, 
To take his wife an angel came, 

A seaman for his daughter. 

He oft' may see the young and gay 

Pass in a merry train, 
Though pleasant words to him they say, 

He can never smile again. 

The stars will shine as bright again 
And the sun as brightly beam, 

But Weland's heart no cheer can gain, 
He lives in a gloomy dream. 



98 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 



Alone, in his lordly mansion, Marquis Weland 
was often heard singing "I Know That The 
Bright Stars Are Shining But Gloomy The 
Clouds Look To Me." (See Lyric 28.) 

Ye winds from out the ocean deep, 

Blow here a breath of solace 
Where Marquis Weland vigils keep 

Within a lonely palace. 

One evening, as he viewed the bay 

And he heard the ocean roar, 
With a longing sigh he wished for the day 

When his weary life w^as o'er. 

There is no sound of music soft 

To cheer up his saddened day. 
The hand that waked those strains so oft' 

Is mouldering cold in clay. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 99 



( See Lyric 29) "In Love They Lived And Died." 

There are no sounds of voices sweet 

Blent around his brilliant board, 
There are no ruby lips to meet 

Those of her most cherished lord. 

(See Lyric 30) entitled "Fair Nelvy." 

He sometimes wanders to the woods 
And he hears the wild birds sing. 

"Ah, what to me are earthly goods? 
Wealth, alas, but troubles bring. 

"Oh had I but an humble cot, 

How happy I nov/ might be. 
And to my fond child's love-made lot. 

Then, I gladly might agree. 



100 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 



"Though fortune's glitter may beguile 

With her titles grim and cold, 
Oh give me back one long lost smile, 

And take the glittering gold." 

See Lyric 31, "Sing Me One Strain From The 
Careless And Free." 

He sees the cotter's little girl 

Tripping merrily along, 
Her careless ringlets 'round her v/hirl 

While she sings a rustic song. 

He sees the ploughman's daughter fair 

Standing by her lover's side. 
Her humble father blesses her, 

She is now to be a bride. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 101 



He hears the anvil's thrilling sound, 
And he hears the blacksmith sing, 

Life keeps busily circling round, 
But as still as death to him. 

Those simple scenes he ponders o'er 
At even's sun's declining. 

Ah, soon the sun of life is o'er, 
So ceased his heart's repining. 

See Lyric 32, "Calling Me To Go." 

He turns to home in deep distress. 
He enters its massive door, 

His weary head his pillows press, 
His last long walk is o'er. 

Now on his dying bed he lies 
And the end is drawing near. 

To soothe his pains a stranger tries, 
As she smoothes his hoary hair. 



102 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 



See Lyric 33, "When I Am Dead," 

See Lyric 34, "Let Me Dream My Barque Has 
Landed On That Lovely Golden Shore." 

Ah me, grim death is sometimes kind 

When hfe is hard to bear, 
When there's no love to leave behind 

Or, dear, beloved ones here. 

He closed his eyes no more to rise. 

He breathed a silent prayer, 
He hoped, beyond the azure skies. 

He would join his loved ones there. 

Now pale and cold his body lies 

In a casket decked v/ith gold, 
There are no sobs and sober sighs. 

But friends who are stern and cold. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 103 

Last, in the lone dark grave he lies, 

His loss there is none to mourn, 
And happy youths and maids arise 

In that mansion long so lone. 

This ends the story v/ith the exception that 
the rather good natured Lord Berford, by quiet 
perseverance, won, and wed the merry widow, and 
Miss Julia Jones, who, as an American heiress, 
repeatedly rejected British titles, was won and wed 
by the young Virginian lawyer, our hero's friend 
and cousin. 

But, oh I with love, that ruler bold, 
Don't dare, my friends, to struggle, 

His tie, the sternest heart can hold. 
To dare him means but trouble. 

So parents, if you've but one child, 
And e'en a prince had sought her. 

Oh ! blame ye not, but bless ye mild 
The love that wins your daughter. 



104 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 

For kings may fall and courts divide. 

As breakers swell and sever, 
And men may boast of fleeting pride, 

But love rules on forever. 

For conclusion see Lyric No. 35, entitled "The 
Noble And His Daughter." 




PART TWO 



Lyrics and Recitations 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 107 



YOU'LL CEHTER MY CARDEH OF LOVE. 



/^H ! give me your hand as a token— 
^^ A promise I'd prize 'most divine, 
My vows, dear, will never be broken. 

Your smiles, love, I long to call mine, 
A palace serene I will build thee, 

My darling, my sweet, little dove, 
A wall of devotion I'll build thee, 

To shelter our garden of love. 

With jewels, my dear, I'll enrich thee. 

And should you my proffer decline, 
My life I would give, dear, to win thee. 

My soul wait in Heaven for thine. 
Then tell me, oh ! tell me you love me, 

All else and all others above, 
A mansion of joy I will build thee, 

To centre our garden of love. 



108 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 

Oh ! had I the gems of the ocean, 

All gold of the deserts was mine, 
Vd give for your fond heart's devotion, 

Or starve if you care not for mine. 
Then true as the stream to the sea, dear, 

Along by life's river we'll rove— 
With hearts ever trusting and true, dear, 

Bright rose of the garden of love. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 109 



NOW WHERE'S THE VOICE TO CHEER ME. 



r\^ I the red, red rose will bloom as fair, 
^^ And the purple on the heather, 
But my rose is dead, my lily rare. 
From my garden's gone forever. 

Flowers will bloom and the birds will sing. 
The stream from the sea can't sever. 

But where is the voice a cheer to bring, 
'Til we meet where we part never? 



110 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 



A GALLANT'S LOVE FOR ME. 



^T' LOVE the swish of the ocean's waves 
^^ And the sigh of the sounding sea, 
Then give me the love my spirit craves, 

The love of a hero for me. 
A queen may prize her golden crown. 

But the silvery waves for me, 
Give me not title's high renown, 

But a gallant's love for me. 

Oh ! tell me you love me, tell me true, 

Chase away the clouds that hover, 
Then ask of the winds if I love you. 

My, fond, daring, ocean rover. 
A queen may prize her golden crown. 

But the silvery waves for me, 
Give me no title's high renown, 

But a gallant's love for me. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 111 



I KNOW YOU'LL NE'ER DECEIVE ME 



/^H ! I love a gallant young hero 
^^ From a land far away o'er the main, 
I long, oh ! I long he were here, oh ! 
Here, to never return back again. 

Oh ! come back to me 

From your home o'er the sea. 
For, only your absence can grieve me. 

Oh ! come, come to me 

Then my heart will be free, 
I know you'll ne'er deceive me. 

The stars will shine o'er another clime 
And the wild ocean waves will glisten. 

My heart for a gallant's love will pine 
And my soul in its silence listen. 



112 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 

Oh ! come back to me 
From your home o'er the sea, 
For, only your absence can grieve me, 
Oh ! come, come to me 
Then my heart will be free, 
I know you'll ne'er deceive me. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 113 

THE RED ROSE WILL FADE. 

^KHE red rose will fade like the bright apple 
^■^^ blossom, 

Then let its sweet fragrance float heedless and 
free, 
But one pleasant smile can ne'er fade from my 
bosom. 
Green as the laurel is that vision to me. 
Pluck not the rose, dear, oh ! spare it for pity, 

Check not the vine let it cling to the tree, 
Roses are fair and fragrant and pretty, 
But only the laurel's lovely to me. 

The red rose will fade, dear, Hke hopes that we 
cherish, 
And visions the brightest the soonest will flee. 
For lilies the fairest and loveliest perish, 
And nothing seems true but the laurel to me. 
Pluck not the rose, dear, oh ! spare it for pity, 

Check not the vine let it cling to the tree, 
Roses are fair and fragrant and pretty. 
But only the laurel's lovely to me. 



114 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 



THINK OH THE FAIR AND SMILE ON THE TRUE 



/^H ! seek, dear, the spot where sunshine's the 
^^ fairest, 

Pluck the bright rose, dear, when pearly with 
dew, 
While tears may be sweet and smiles are the 
rarest. 
Heed not the false, dear, but cherish the true. 

Fortune's bright glitter may vanish tomorrow, 
Vanity fade like the glitter of dew. 

Borrow not, dear, from the cold store of sorrow. 
But think of the fair and cherish the true. 

Guild you a cage yet the bird longs for freedom, 
Lovely the rose yet it pines for the dew, 

Though chains be of gold yet who would not flee 
them 
To seek for a heart that is kindly and true? 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 115 



I'LL MARRY NO OTHER BUT YOU. 

^"YOU tell me you love me sincerely, 
^^ With a heart that is tender and true, 
How oft' will you sigh to be near me, 
When away o*er the ocean so blue? 
And when I am here sad and lonely. 
With a heart that beats only for you, 
Should a king on his throne 
Plead to call me his own, 
rU marry no other but you. 
Should a king on his throne 
Plead to call me his own, 
ril marry no other but you. 

Then tell me again that you love me. 
Though away, far away, you may roam, 

That true as the bright stars above me. 
Your heart will be with me at home. 

While the sunflower's true to her god, dear, 
And the rose, love, is true to the dew. 



116 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 

Should a king on his throne 
Plead to call me his own, 

ril marry no other but you. 
Should a king on his throne 
Plead to call m.e his own, 

ril marry no other but you. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 117 



I SHALL MARRY HONE BUT YOU. 



/^H ! I tell you Nora, dearie, 

^^ That my heart is fond and true, 

And I long to have you near me. 

For I love none else but you. 
If you tell me that you love me 

Sure, I know you're kind and true, 
While the stars are bright above me 

I shall marry none but you. 

Should another win your favor, 

With a heart less true than mine, 
I can never love another, 

Since my heart is wholly thine. 
Then, you love me, tell me truly, 

True as roses love the dew, 
While the stars are bright above me 

I shall marry none but you. 



118 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 

I LOVE A QDEEN THOUGH SHE WEARS NOT 
A CROWN. 

^TT' LOVE a queen though she wears not a crown, 
'^^ But a king on his throne would have sought 

her, 
And I know she would smile if I dare frown 
On a love far away o*er the water. 

Oh ! if I had the voice of the sounding sea 
Or the sigh of the swish of the ocean, 

I would sing the praise of the true and the free, 
While Pd sigh for her fond heart's devotion. 

Oh ! come give me, oh ! give me a sailor's suit, 
And ril sigh 'mid the storms of the ocean, 

Though I cannot play on a harp or a lute, 
I can then still my heart's wild emotion. 

But a woe to the heart that is fond and free, 
Though the wealth v/ere the gems of the ocean. 

For my heart, dear, will break for the love of thee 
Sweetest girl of my fond heart's devotion. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 119 



KEEP AWAY LOVE FROM ME. 



/^H ! there may be dangers in the deep, 
^^ 'Mong the surges of the sea, 
If guardian angels vigils keep, 
May they keep off love from me. 

His dart, I fear, like a sword or spear. 
Though the sting may pleasing be, 

You may always fear a sigh or tear. 
From his ties, oh ! keep me free. 



120 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 



IF I WERE ONLY AN HUMBLE MAID. 



^T'F I were only an humble maid 
""^ Gathering up the shells from the sea, 
Oh ! who would the gods of fate upbraid 
For the love of a maid like me. 

For the ties of gold may sometime break, 
And fortune and friends may sever, 

Say, who would live for my own sweet sake. 
If fame was shrouded forever. 

Or should I sink 'neath the ocean wave, 
Oh ! where is the gallant lover 

Who would risk his life mine own to save 
Ere the waves roll fierce me over ? 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 121 



TO THE LAND OF THE FREE I WODLD TAKE THEE. 

"t^F all of thy fortune, and title, and fame, 
"^ And the nobles who court thee today, 
Should vanish tomorrow and leave thee in pain. 

To the drift of hard fate, dear, a prey, 
Thou couldst fly to my bosom, sweet, gentle dove, 

I would banish thy sorrow and pain, 
For thine own trusting heart and true, gentle, love. 

Is the greatest of all earthly gain. 

In the land of the free and the home of the brave. 

Where none need from ancestry borrow. 
Where men, dear, are men, no vain titles they 
crave. 

And love need not pine, dear, in sorrow, 
I would then thee adore as tonight, dear I do, 

Though thy wealth and thy beauty decline, 
My heart, dear, may cease to beat, sometime, for 
you. 

But in Heaven our souls will entwine. 



122 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 



OH! FOR A HOME WHERE ALL HEARTS 
CAN BE FREE. 

^<HEY tell of a land far away o*er the sea, 
^^ And men call it "the gem of the ocean," 
They tell us her daughters have spirits so free. 
And her sons have the souls of devotion. 

Chorus 
Oh ! for a home where all hearts can be free, 

And, oh! for a true heart's devotion, 
Oh ! for a home 'mong the gallant for me, 

Where men call "the gem of the ocean." 
Oh ! for a home where all hearts can be free, 

And, oh ! for a true heart's devotion, 
Oh ! for a home 'mong the gallant for me. 

Where men call "the gem of the ocean." 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 123 

Then, bear me, ye winds, o'er the beautiful sea, 
Nor list' ye to the sighs of the ocean. 

The love of a heart 'neath a banner so free. 
From that land called "the gem of the ocean." 

Oh ! for a home where all hearts can be free. 

And, oh! for a true heart's devotion, 
Oh! for a home 'mong the gallant for me. 

Where men call "the gem of the ocean." 
Oh ! for a home where all hearts can be free. 

And, oh! for a true heart's devotion. 
Oh ! for a home 'mong the gallant for me. 

Where men call "the gem of the ocean." 

Last night, oh ! I dreamed such a beautiful dream. 
And those scenes I had never seen before, 

I dreamed of a heart, like a smiling sunbeam, 
That had landed on freedom's lovely shore. 



124 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 

Oh ! for a home where all hearts can be free, 

And, oh ! for a true heart's devotion, 
Oh ! for a home 'mong the gallant for me, 

Where men call "the gem of the ocean." 
Oh ! for a home where all hearts can be free, 

And, oh ! for a true heart's devotion. 
Oh ! for a home 'mong the gallant for me. 

Where men call "the gem of the ocean." 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 125 



WE'LL ALL MAKE MERRY TILL THE MORNING, 



/^OME, cheer boys, cheer, 

^"^ We soon must part from here, 
A health to every rose these scenes adorning. 

Till the dawn of day, 

Let every heart be gay, 
For we'll all make merry till the morning. 

Till the dawn of day. 

Let every heart be gay. 
For we'll all make merry till the morning. 

Then come, boys, come. 

Each lady's winsome bloom 
A health to every lip a smile adorning, 

Ere dawn of day 

Let every heart be gay. 
And we'll all make merry till the morning 

Ere the dawn of day 

Let every heart be gay. 
And we'll all make merry till the morning. 



126 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 



BEAOTIFDL ENGLAND, FAIR VANITY'S SHRINE 
IS IN THEE. 

/^H ! beautiful, beautiful England, 
^^ There's no land as lovely as thee, 
Your castles and courts, dear old England, 

Are fairer than aught else to me, 
Home, sweet home, there is no place like home, 

There is no place like England to me, 
Home, sweet home, there is no place like home— 

And her bright, golden, glitter for me. 

Your name and your fame, dear old England, 

Are echoes from Heaven to me, 
For freedom who cares, dear old England, 

While glory, alone, is in thee ? 
Home, sweet home, there is no place like home. 

There is no place like England to me, 
Home, sweet home, there is no place like home— 

And her bright, golden, glitter for me. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 127 

They praise other lands, lovely England, 

But false are their fancies to me. 
There's no place, oh ! beautiful England, 

Can boast the same pride, dear, as thee. 
Home, sweet home, there is no place like home. 

There is no place like England to me, 
Home, sweet home, there is no place like home— 

And her bright, golden, glitter for me. 



128 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 

OH! WHAT A KIND AND LOVABLE MAN 
HUBBY HAS BEEN TO ME. 

Yt^OVE me honey is all that I ask of thee, 
'^ Love me, love me, breakfast and dinner 

and tea, 
Rain or shine, dearest mine, FU be true to thee. 
Want or work Til not shirk long as you love me. 

Chorus 
We can live in a calico tent— 
And I can work to pay the rent, 
Then we will rest with a happy content. 

As long as you love me. 
I will sing the same old song — 
Never complain as we journey along, 
Oh ! what a kind and a lovable man — 

My hubby has been to me. 

Here's my hand, dearest, fond, FU be true to thee. 
One bright dime lasts a time, dear, while you love 

me, 
Want or work Fll not shirk ever true you see. 
Ever new fond and true you will be to me. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 129 

Chorus 
We can live in a calico tent— 
And I can work to pay the rent, 
Then we will rest with a happy content, 

As long as you love me. 
I will sing the same old song— 
Never complain as we journey along, 
Oh ! what a kind and a lovable man— 

My hubby has been to me. 



130 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 



A LITTLE OF LOVE DOES ME. 

Y^OVE me honey is not very much to me 
'^ Jewels rare I will wear, who would'nt pine 

for me ? 
Rain or shine, dearest mine, FU be gay and free, 
Care and work I can shirk, long as you love me. 

Chorus 
I will ride in an automobile, 
I don't care who'll turn the wheel— 
Nor worry my head who'll settle the deal— 

A little of love does me. 
I will sing the same old song. 
Kick all the way as we journey along, 
Oh ! what a mean and a horrible man— 

My hubby would like to be. 

Take my hand dearest fond if you'r true to me, 
Dress me, caress me but not too cheap Fll see. 
For my hair style so rare you can pay the fee. 
Blushes too ever new, who would'nt pine for me? 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 131 

Chorus 
I will ride in an automobile, 
I don't care who'll turn the wheel— 
Nor worry my head who'll settle the deal— 

A little of love does me. 
I will sing the same old song, 
Kick all the way as we journey along, 
Oh ! what a mean and a horrible man— 

My hubby would like to be. 



132 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 



THE LOVABLE FACE OF A CHILD 

OTRE children less fair than the flowers 
^-^ That bloom in the garden in Spring? 
Their voices less sweet than the songbirds 

That gladden the woods while they sing, 
And say, can you paint me a picture 

Of songbird or rosebud so mild 
To vie in its innocent beauty 

With the lovable face of a child ? 

Are rosebuds half open more fair 

When kissed by the dawn's early dew 
Than the bright eyes and light curling hair 

Of baby, fond mother to you ? 
Look back to the days that are vanished, 

A picture of gladness you'll find, 
Its beauty all sorrow can banish, 

'Tis the innocent face of a child. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 133 

Then, join in their mirth and their gladness, 

Their hearts may not always be gay, 
Cloud not the young spirit in sadness 

Or youth's happy smiles then betray. 
There is bliss, oh ! so joyous and free, 

A spirit unconquered yet mild. 
All shining with innocent glee 

In the lovable face of a child. 



134 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 



I'LL BID FAREWELL TO SIDNEY IN THE MORNING. 



I 



WILL leave this habitation 
Of vanity's creation, 
And seek a home where chivelry's adorning. 
For the land of freedom bold, 
Where true love will ne'er grow cold, 
Fll bid farewell to Sidney in the morning. 

Dear old England, lovely nation, 

Why vaunt of royal station. 
And taunt a life that true-love's light's adorning? 

When the Sun's the hills adorning 

My heart will cease from yearning 
And bid farewell to Sidney in the morning. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 135 

To the land my heart is bounding 

Where progress is astounding 
And idle pride the manly heart is scorning, 

Then no love Fll leave behind me, 

For cruelty inclined me 
To bid farewell to Sidney in the morning. 



136 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 



LET EVERY MAN FEEL GAY AND YOUNG 
AND EVERY MAID LOOK CHEERY. 



/^HEER up, my boys, the night is young, 
^^ Let not a heart be dreary, 
Let every man feel gay and young. 
For every maid looks cheery. 

And though your ships may sail the sea, 
And though the way be weary. 

Tonight, we'll all dance light and free 
And smile both bright and cheery. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 137 



I BID YOn THE TOP OF THE MORNING. 



/^H! save your sweet smiles for some other 
^^ than me, 

Tomorrow I start for the land of the free, 
Unfurl my sails to the winds of the sea. 
And bid you the top of the morning. 

What care you for one who is happy and free 
With vanity's blood running coldly in thee ? 
As soon as the dawn's merry glances I see 
rU bid you the top of the morning. 



138 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 

WHEN GAINED ARE THE HOPES THAT 
WE CHERISH. 

/^H ! the Sun will shine, and the rose will bloom, 
^^ And the lily fair will flourish, 
But, my love, this life will seem full of gloom 
When gone are the smiles I cherish. 

For, my dear, pride may prune the garden fair, 
And the green, green, hopes we cherish 

May fall 'mid the leaves of the roses there, 
Ere gained are the hopes we cherish. 

Say not, oh ! say not, when far you may roam, 

That life as of yore Fll cherish. 
That as bright for me can the roses bloom 

While true love's laurel may perish. 

Then, give me, oh ! give me a sailor's suit, 
And we'll sail o'er the bounding main. 

And my folks, they may search in wild pursuit 
Till we come back to home again. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 139 

Then the Sun will shine and the rose will bloom 

And the lily fair will flourish, 
And my heart will feel not a shade of gloom 

When gained are the hopes we cherish. 

When the clouds roll by and the Sun will shine 
And our love's red rose will flourish, 

When my hand is yours and your heart is mine 
Will gained be the hopes we cherish. 



140 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 



I'LL STILL, MY DEAR ELDA, CLINC, FONDLY, 
TO THEE. 



^<HOUGH the stars and the sea prove untrue to 
^^ each other 

And the river forget to rush on to the sea, 
Though all else and all ties from each other may 
sever, 

ril still, my dear Elda, cling as fondly to thee. 

Though the stream, dear, no more shall rush on to 
the river. 
And the eagle forget to fly proudly and free. 
Though the stars and the stripes on this banner, 
dear, sever, 
In Heaven, my darling, will my soul cling to thee. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 141 



MY SOUL WILL SEEK AND FIND THEE. 



/^H ! 'though we part sweet Elda dear, 
^^ While duty's ties may bind me, 
Those parting vows my heart will cheer, 
Sweet love I leave behind me. 

Dark Afric's port Fll ne'er forget, 
The light that there inclined me. 

Where first thy angel face I met. 
Dear love I leave behind me. 

Or dear old famous London town. 
The heart that there inclined me, 

Its name, its fame, and high renown, 
The ties that there entwined me. 



142 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 

But we will meet though now we part. 
Our loves shall e'er entwined be, 

Though cruel fate may rend my heart. 
My soul will seek and find thee. 

Earth's foolish pride will fade away 
And all the ties that bind thee, 

But love will live where none decay 
And hearts will e'er entwined be. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 143 



BLOW HIM SWEET BREEZES, OH! BLOW HIM 
FAIR WEATHER, 



f^YE breezes that blow o'er yon beautiful billow, 
^^ Ye stars that shine out o'er the deep raging 

sea, 
Oh ! whisper me sweetly if on his lone pillow 
That he whom I love is a-dreaming of me. 

Then blow ye sweet breezes, oh ! blow him fair 
weather, 

Or whisper him gently while over the sea, 
Do tell him, oh ! tell him no distance can sever 

My heart from my love who is dreaming of me. 



144 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 



THINKING, ALAS, HE WAS DREAMING OF ME. 



Y^ONG did I list' to the sigh of the billows, 
'^ Long have I watched the wild surge of 

the sea, 
Long have I strayed 'neath the lone weeping willows 
Thinking, alas, he was dreaming of me. 

Ne'er shall I list' to the surge of the billows. 
Ne'er shall I watch the wild surge of the sea. 

Ne'er shall I stray 'neath the lone weeping willows. 
See his fond spirit is beckoning to me. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 145 



GRIEVE NOT, OH! GRIEVE NOT, THERE'S HO HEED 
OF SORROW. 



^;;3'RIEVE not, oh ! grieve not, there's no need of 
^^ sorrow. 

Say not a love has its end in the grave. 
Bright be the beam of that golden tomorrow. 

When mingle the souls of the true and the brave. 

Bury me deep 'neath a lone weeping willow, 
And if his body floats over the waves 

Lay him beside me, a rose for his pillow, 
Then we will rest in the deep silent graves. 



146 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 



I KNOW THAT THE BRIGHT STARS ARE SHINING 
BUT GLOOMY THE CLODDS LOOK TO ME. 



"T^ KNOW that the bright stars are shining 
'"^ But gloomy the clouds look to me, 
Ah ! why was my heart ever pining 
For title and false dignity ? 

Oh ! why did I pine for the jingle 

And glitter of cold vanity, 
While purity's heart would comingle 

With that of the simple and free ? 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 147 



IN LOVE THEY LIVED AND DIED. 



•O^AIR Elda's voice in Weland's halls, 
•^^ Her souPs bright music's shed, 
Deep silence now is 'neath those walls. 

From earth her spirit fled, 
Calm sleeps the pride of other days. 

Fair beauty's bloom is o'er, 
And breasts that swelled to sing her praise 

Now sing those strains no more. 

No more the breasts of earls bright 

To win her smiles will swell. 
No more in simple maiden light, 

She hears the tales they tell. 



148 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 

She sleeps within a silent grave, 

Her hero by her side, 
Who drifted o'er the furious wave. 

In love they lived and died. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 149 



FAIR NELVY. 



Y^O lily is fair no rose seems as bright, 
^ My sunshine is clouded for ever, 
Since Nelvy, my pride, my fond heart's delight, 
The cold hand of fate did us sever. 

Take me, oh ! take me away from this land 
To the home where loveties ne'er sever, 

Take me to sing 'mong the bright angel band, 
And the spirits of loved ones, for ever. 



150 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 

Take me, oh ! take me away from this home. 
To a love. Dear, unbounded and free. 

Take me away through the bright clouds to roam. 
My dear Lord of creation, to Thee. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 151 



SINC ME ONE STRAIN FROM THE CARELESS 
AND FREE. 



^TfE cold gods of fate that so ruthlessly sever 
^^ The hearts of the fond from the hands of 

the free, 
Your gold cannot pay for the smiles gone for ever, 
Oh ! bring back one glimpse of their beauties 

to me. 

Then give me, oh ! give me one smile from the 
happy, 

And sing me one strain from the careless and free, 
Oh ! give me a heart and a soul once more happy, 

And take back your glitter of fortune to thee. 



152 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 



CALLING ME TO GO. 



^<HE days long have gone when my heart was 
^^ light and gay, 

Gone as the rose that in Autumn fades away, 
They're gone to a land where Vm longing soon to go, 
I can see them gaily fleeting to and fro. 
A-fleeting, a-fleeting, fleeting to and fro. 

Oh! for the days when in boyhood, young and 

brave, 
I carelessly wandered o'er mountain or wave, 
And plucked the fairest rose that garden e'er 

could grow, 
Hear her voice a-calling, calling me to go. 
A-calling, a-calling, calling me to go. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 153 

Come and smoothe my pillow and make it soft 

and low, 
Oh ! the voice that's calling, calling me to go. 
Though grass has grown green o'er my loved ones 

long ago, 
Hear their angel voices calling me to go. 
They are calling, calling, calling me to go. 



154 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 



Like voices through ages the echoes will bring, 
Like sounds of the bells that unceasingly swing, 
Eternity's hopes to our hearts ever sing, 
As ivy around the great oaks ever cling. 




THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 155 



WHEN I AM DEAD. 



>l^HEN I am dead and you bury me deep 
^^ Where I know you will place me with care, 
Speak to me kindly before my last sleep, 
Then breathe for my spirit a prayer. 

O'er my casket no beautiful flowers. 

In your kindness I wish you to lay. 
There are living you may comfort for hours, 

Then, give them a bright rose while you may. 

Oft' I have met as I joumied along 
Half fainting and falling by the way, 

Some mortal, perchance, I might mourn when gone. 
Had I gazed on his motionless clay. 



156 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 

When in my casket, cold, lifeless and dead, 
You may gaze on my motionless clay, 

Talk not of sorrow or kind words unsaid. 
But come speak your kind words while you may. 

If a kind word to cheer or to flatter. 

In friendship, to me you Would say, 
I would rather right now, dear, far better, 

Than your praise o'er my motionless clay. 

If you chance, dear, to stand by my casket 

Ere forever Fm laid in the clay, 
Oh ! then smile, my dear friends, ere you cannot. 

For you too will be silent, some day. 

When my eyes they are closed then for ever. 
And my lips and my ears to earth's play. 

May my true friends be happy together. 
And my soul to my God find its way. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 157 



LET ME DREAM MY BARQUE HAS LANDED ON 
THAT LOVELY GOLDEN SHORE. 



/^H ! Fm longing, longing, longing for the dear, 

^^ sweet smiles of yore, 

For the faces, fair and friendly, in that bright 

forevermore. 
Oft* I see them, oft' I hear them singing sweetly as 

I dream, 
How the crowns they wear do sparkle like the little 

stars that beam, 
Let me sleep, oh ! do not wake me while I view 

those scenes once more. 
Let me dream my barque has landed on that, lovely, 

golden shore. 
On that, lovely, golden shore, on that, lovely, 

golden shore, 
Let me dream my barque has landed on that, lovely, 

golden shore. 



158 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 

i am dreaming, dreaming, dreaming of that, lovely, 

golden shore, 
And I see the angel faces far more happy than 

of yore, 
I can hear them calling, calling, as Fve never 

heard before. 
Far across the misty ferry on that, lovely, golden 

shore. 

Let me sleep, oh ! do not wake me while I view 

those scenes once more, 
Let me dream my barque has landed on that, lovely, 

golden shore. 
On that, lovely, golden shore, on that, lovely, 

golden shore. 
Let me dream my barque has landed on that, lovely, 

golden shore. 



THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 159 



THE HOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER. 

^TT'N the cold dark grave they have laid him alone, 
""^ 'Tween his wife and his beautiful daughter, 
And that was all the end of his angry frown 
'Gainst the gallant who came o'er the water. 

Often the wanderer who'll gaze on the tomb. 
Breathes a sigh for cool fortune's fair daughter. 

As he thinks on the maid's and the noble's doom, 
And her gallant's who came o'er the water. 



160 THE NOBLE AND HIS DAUGHTER 

But now in the mansion that was long so lone, 
You may list' to the gay peals of laughter, 

There's none there to sigh for the noble, now gone. 
Or to pine for his beautiful daughter. 

Then, praise not the gods for her title and fame. 
Or the pride of the lords that had sought her. 

But sing ye the praise of her love, and the name 
Of her gallant who came o'er the water. 



THE END. 



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